


You're Out of This World, Merlin!

by I_ran_out_of_books



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Humor, I'm writing this for fun, IN SPACE!, M/M, Magic, Master/Servant, Other, Prince Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Reincarnation, Self-Indulgent, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_ran_out_of_books/pseuds/I_ran_out_of_books
Summary: After a millennium living Merlin doesn't think he can be surprised anymore, then one day he's abducted by aliens. It's on the planet Clorgä where he makes the prince's acquaintance again but Arthur doesn't know him. They must become friends all over again if Merlin is going to survive on this new alien world.(This fic is just for fun. I just watched the coneheads and I can't sleep. Come on a near acid trip with me as I write my weirdest fic yet.)
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Kudos: 8





	1. Merlin's on a Trip

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what to say other than sorry not sorry. This fic will have no posting schedule and honestly idek where it's going. This is basically just a story for myself because you gotta give yourself gifts every once in a while. 
> 
> If you have anything to say leave it in the comments, who know's maybe I'll put some ideas into the fic if you have stuff you wanna see. 
> 
> Enjoy the stupidity that comes out of my brain!

Life and magic have been intertwined since the beginning of time in more ways than the mind can perceive. No one knew this better than Merlin after one thousand five hundred years of life on earth. He had grown old and exponentially powerful. After a millennium he could close his eyes and probe the stars in the milky way with his mind. 

This kind of space exploration that was far ahead of human technology was one of his favorite pastimes. Much like he would extend his magic on earth to see the path ahead or feel for other’s magic he would extend the powerful coils of magic through the atmosphere, past the leagues of nothingness, and land on the moon. 

So far he’d explored about half the milky way, even with a thousand years worth of time, space was ever changing and astonishing all at once. Merlin would need many more lifetimes to continue exploring the universe as he did. 

To touch the moon was to know peace. The quiet that reigned on that snowhite desert was one of Merlin’s favorite things. He danced on the rings of Saturn, and was tossed around by the storms on Jupiter. Of course, his body remained on Earth but magic was a sixth sense to him as valuable and real as sight or touch or smell. 

Today had been a stressful day on Earth full of petty drama and a painful lack of Arthur. He treated himself by sitting on his bed and expanding his mind till it swept the warm sands of Mars. He climbed to the peak of a mountain and watched with tenderness as the Mars rover grinded over the sand, getting stuck every so often. He gave it a nudge with magic and the rover trailed over the rock that’d been lodged in it’s tires. 

A wave of cold washed over his body on Earth as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him. Yet, up on Mars he was still warm and calm. He tried to find his way back to his material body but that always took time. Another cold wave, this time flaring inside just as it did outside. His skin bloomed with gooseflesh. Slowly but surely he climbed down the peak of Olympus mons till his metaphorical feet hit the red dust. 

He needed to get back to Earth, in this state he was incredibly vulnerable. He was as defenseless as a sleeping baby but usually that wasn’t a problem. He had endless safeguards placed around his cabin in the woods that would alert him to intruders and misdirect the odd tourist who got lost and stumbled upon his home. Whatever was happening was bad. 

The cold came and went but his finger and toes began to go numb, then his arms and legs. Torso. Head. He was weightless and paralyzed. 

His mind and magic soared through blackness, crashed through the ozone layer. He plummeted past the clouds and down down down like the setting sun. His magic was shrinking, finding its rightful place in his limbs once more. 

With a rattling breath his magical consciousness snapped back into his body and Merlin’s eyes shot open. A blinding whiteness burned at his corneas. Something unlike anything Merlin had ever seen began to materialize behind the searing light. The light yawned wider like the slowly opening eye of a cyclops. His body soared upward, horizontal in mid air. 

“Help!” He yelled to no one at all. He knew no one was near, and he’d been in enough strange situations to know if he couldn’t get himself out of a situation no one could. He reached for his magic, trying to regain control of his limbs but he lay stiff and rising like an elevator. 

The white circle of light swallowed him whole with one final shriek of horror from Merlin. He passed out and his limp body was lost to whatever force decided to take him.


	2. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur meet.

The planet Clorgä was one filled with a jolly people, particularly on this golden day. A long trail of servants were rushed along by smiling guards. They used their batons to whack the back of their knees and knock them to the ground. There was no room for laziness on Clorgä, particularly on this golden day. 

The guards bowed to one another as they passed, “Golden day,” one called. 

“The day is golden!” The other recited back and walked down the path to glare at the servants.

On Earth such servanthood had long passed but on Clorgä it thrived as many other things did. Technology, order, and above all else obedience. Kings were of the highest authority, and here in Fikens King Pendragon ruled with an iron fist. Everyone was happy and the day was always golden, particularly this one. 

If one were to follow the trail of servants through the carefully kept garden, you’d find a small wooden door that led into the smoke filled kitchens of the castle Pendragon. The castle was a grand place constructed of large slabs of limestone so that the edifice of the building was smooth and gleaming white. Towers rose at the sides and watched over the city of Tesreculon. It’s foyer immense and made of streaked marble. Of course, each of these had their respective names but the author strives to make the appearance of the castle obvious to the human mind. Saint Basil’s Cathedral might come to mind if a person were to view those gleaming spears, twirling as they ascended to the skys. 

The Kitchen itself was much less grand for the servants were considered second rate citizens. Inferior people cannot appreciate beauty, they just haven’t the brains. The walls were stained with years of smoke. The crowded space buzzed with servants preparing a feast for the one and only prince. They worked around the wooden table tops, rolling dough, seasoning dishes, and arranging delicacies into mouth watering works of art. 

“Faster!” A guard called from the doorway and the hustle and bustle went on with renewed speed. Guards themselves were only a step above servants and one might imagine this would make the two fast friends but if anything the closeness made the guards doubly as mean. It was as if the small step they’d made up was a canyon and they beat down with batons anyone who might dare step over it. The guards used their strength to prove their worth and in exchange the servants inherent worthlessness. 

Clorgä was a place infested by social hierarchies or as the King might say, honored with hierarchies. Social status was the symbol of an advanced race, one that always strives toward the future. Cutthroat competition is what it takes to propel worlds forward. 

It was partly due to this hierarchy that the servants were working five times as hard. It’s not every golden day you get to make a feast for the prince’s twentieth yarb. If the word yarb puzzles you, have no fear, a yarb is simply two thousand twenty seven glibs. 

A prince’s twentieth yarb celebration was always a special one for it was the glib, or day, on which he became a man. Past the packed kitchen and through the shining marble halls one would arrive at the throne room where the spoiled prince sat on his throne besides his father. His own throne was made of pure silver but was less ornate than Uther’s who was made of solid gold. It was a small replica of the castle itself and his ringed fingers rested on the towers like some giant God watching over his creation. 

“One of our finest Laminax, my lord,” the duke said as he bowed before the king. Behind him stood a servant holding the reins of a half snake half eagle. It was a deadly animal, great for hunting. 

The King elbowed the prince who was falling asleep beside him. The prince jumped up, blonde hair falling over his blue eyes in disarray. “Thank you,” he said flatly. He already had ten Laminax in the stables. For the prince, his yarb celebration always proved to be boring and painful. It was on this very date that his mother passed while giving birth to him, a terrible offense which his father hadn’t quite forgiven him for. 

The duke bowed again, so low that the sun gleamed through the high windows and off of his balding head, blinding the King for a second. He moved along and his servant pulled the hissing laminax behind them. 

A woman walked up next, bowed so that her cleavage was on display. The King and the Prince did not disguise their roaming gaze. She was a lady of the court, her expensive floor length toga showed as much. She was famous for her business of the finest concubines in the country. This was precisely what she offered today. 

Two women stood three feet behind her, batting their eyelashes at the handsome prince. He sat straighter and puffed out his chest, looked down regally upon them. One of them hid her face shyly behind the ends of her head scarf. 

“Fromina and Galtrix here volunteered to serve the prince as he wishes.” To be the prince’s concubine was quite a secure place in society and the two girls weren’t anything if not entrepreneurs. 

“I look forward to getting to know them,” the prince said and inclined his head to Lady Jasmine. 

The girls giggled and moved along. He was distracted by their frames leaving so that he was not paying attention when the next gift was brought up. He turned at the sound of a clearing throat. 

Agravaine, his uncle on his mother’s side stood proud, a man kneeling beside him. A black cloth bag covered his head and his hands were cuffed in front of him. The cuffs were unlike anything Arthur had ever seen, more like beautifully ornate copper iron bracelets. The man worked his wrists against them blindly, trying to free himself. 

Arthur leaned forward with interest. “What is this, uncle?” 

“Entertainment,” Agravaine announced. He looked like a peacock fluffing its feathers for a mate, self importance radiating off of him. He knew he had the best gift so far. “I bring you an offering from our neighboring galaxy, the Milky Way.” 

Arthur sat back. The Milky way was the universe's dumpster. His expectations for the gift plummeted again. 

“Don’t pout,” his uncle chastised, “This one is special. He is human, like us in many respects. Their civilization mirrors ours in its infancy.” 

“Thank you,” Arthur said but he sounded like the petulant child that he was. 

Agravaine laughed, “He isn’t an ordinary human. We caught this one exploring space to an extent no other human ever has before. He’s thousands of years ahead of the race. He’s magical.” 

“Magical?” Uther asked, interest showing in his face. Once upon a time on Clorgä magic existed too but it went extinct hundreds of years ago. Uther always resented the fact he didn’t have control of the legendary magical armies, he always figured he could conquer the world with them. 

“Magical,” Agravaine asserted. He ripped the cloth off the head and the human grunted against the bright light of the throne room. 

His eyes flared with spots as he tried to understand where he was. Merlin had no clue where he was, all he knew was he’d awoken in a new place with mean people who spoke a language he’d never heard. Arthur’s eyebrows raised as he caught sight of the face, half covered by a muzzle. 

“He’s a biter,” Agravaine explained, “but that can be trained out of him. Earth creatures are primitive compared to us but they have enough intelligence to learn.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” Arthur said with a smile growing on his face. He’d never owned a human before but Arthur liked to consider himself a collector of rare creatures. 

Merlin’s writhing stopped as soon as he heard that voice. He looked on in catatonic shock as he saw Arthur. The prince looked into his eyes, his blond brows furrowing as Merlin looked into his soul. Chills went up Arthur’s spine, he suspected this animal had more intelligence than they thought. 

Agravaine grabbed a handful of Merlin hair and stood him up, led him away. He did not bow to the King, he’d always been a little defiant that way. Merlin stumbled alongside him, craning his neck to continue looking at Arthur. 

Arthur was there. How was that possible? But he was! Sure he wore strange garbs and spoke a tongue that meant nothing to Merlin, but still, he’d recognize Arthur anywhere. Even across space and time. 

The last thing Merlin saw before the black cloth bag was pulled over his head was Arthur’s steady gaze on him, ignoring the next lord who offered precious jewels in favor of inspecting Merlin. He couldn’t wait to play with his new pet.


End file.
